A Sparrow Against A Parrot
by NotoriouslyN
Summary: She had told him that a parrot could offer a more pleasant companionship than that of a bunch of seafaring scallywags. And it were those words that had Jack Sparrow taking her in as a member of his crew, if only to prove her wrong. Jack Sparrow/OC.


**Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belong to their rightful owners, and yes, I'm not one of them =(**

* * *

It was at the Faithful Bride, that every night, the notoriety of men and their wants were made apparent, if not more. However, to those living at the island, the overwhelming number of pirates was indication enough. All these however, was lost one Naomi girl who had quickly took ducking from all the rum bottles thrown around in a drunken frenzy, in her stride. She paid no heed to all the groping and smooching going on in the tavern, for it was vital that she be on a constant lookout for any bottles that happen to be thrown in her direction when she was on her rounds to bring more alcohol to thirsty mouths.

Now, swinging the empty tray by her side, she eyed one empty bottle being precariously held by the hands of one scruffy man. He was swinging his arms in wild circles while singing incoherent lyrics. She tried taking a longer way around the tavern, figuring that further is better—safer. It was pretty much a good idea when the distance she'd managed to put in, made her to not very much be bothered by the motions of that particular drunk. Until, she bumped unseeingly into a body in her midst of avoiding getting a shard of broken glass on her.

Without looking up at the person she collided into, her words came out in a rush. "Iamterriblysorrysir." The respectful suffix was thrown in because she knew enough on how irritable one can be, courtesy of alcohol.

"It's alright, love." The male voice came. Although with a slight drunken slur, he seemed totally at peace with her bumping into him. One that made her head to snap up curiously,

The sight that greeted her was not the appearance of a conventional pirate. Dreadlocks fell from his head with the locks at the side of his head made up with beads, and a goatee fashioned into two small braids hung from his chin. At first she wasn't really sure the man was a pirate or not, but the red bandana and tricorne confirmed it. A rather eccentric one at that.

For the slightest of moments, their eyes met. Both were staring at the other, only to be interrupted with Naomi blinking hers first. He saw the startling greens of her orbs while she noted the compelling depths of his brown eyes.

"Ah, bring me some rum, lass." He saw from the tray she held that she was working in the tavern.

She nodded slightly, quite sure the response was lost on him.

* * *

Late into the night, when most of the crowd in the tavern had thinned out, she was still behind the counter wiping the last of the mugs and glasses. Thanking God, she yawned, glad for the fact that she wasn't the one who had to do the washing of it all. Since the sleepiness slackened her firm hold when wiping now, she doubted she would have done it without incident.

Still, she couldn't help herself from glancing in the general direction of the pirate she met hours ago, once in a while. From what she saw, she had to give him that the women loved to flock around him. Typically, the attention was what he wanted—rum asides— when he came into here. Presently, it appeared that he had trouble deciding on which of the three women who alternately settled into his lap, to choose for the night.

More carefully than usual, she placed the mugs back at their places. With the sleepiness of hers tonight, the slowness would do her and her shillings some good. The tavern owner, their employer, was a stingy man. It would give him much satisfaction to take the carelessness of hers as an excuse for him to cut her pay.

* * *

Jack Sparrow staggered over to the bar, barely avoiding the chairs strewn all over the place. The fact that he managed to not trip over anything in his inebriated state did not register in his brain, all he could think of was rum, and more of it!

Those wenches who had been by his side all night appeared intent to keep him sober enough so that he would enjoy their ministrations when in the rooms upstairs. He huffed angrily at that. _No one keeps me away from me rum._

Plopping on one of the stools that stood by, he waved his hand repeatedly for the girl behind the bar. It took her long enough to be made aware of his presence.

"Gimme lots of rum." He demanded, with only a slight peppering of his louder and more commanding pirate tone of voice.

Even if his words weren't as clear as they just did, she'd nevertheless be able to make a good guess on what it was that he wanted. Deciding against an overflowing mug of rum, she handed him a bottle of it, figuring that he was a rum addict.

When he retrieved a few coins in his alcohol- induced haze for the rum only did she realize that she had nearly given away for free a bottle of rum. _How if the pirate was too addled with spirits to know that he had to pay for the drinks? _She silently berated herself when the thought hit.

For reasons unknown to her, the wenches did not tag along, but sitting at where he left them. She doubted that it was due to him not lusting for them; none of the men did.

Getting back to her almost finished task for the night, she came across the solid way with which he held the bottle around the neck. It was quite surprising that someone as drunk as he was could pull an act of someone sober.

Bringing the bottle close to his lips, he downed a few big gulps, before setting it back down. "I need ye help…" He said slowly, eyes blinking rapidly to keep his view from swimming.

"What?" Taken aback at the request, her words came out louder than she expected them to be.

He nodded fervently, confirming what she just heard. "Aye," He hiccuped. "Cap'n Jack has trouble choosing his mates."

_Mates?_ She was utterly lost. "Uh…_ mates?_" And the sleepiness that she had been keeping at bay wasn't helping her brain's processes.

Peering blearily into her eyes, he shook his head, sending the effects in his hair to collide musically. "No?" She echoed the meaning of his gesture.

_Wait. _Then, ever so slowly, comprehension dawned. "Oh. You mean them wenches?" She pointed to a spot far behind him.

Too swiftly, he swivelled. Losing his balance almost immediately in his state, he half- stood, one leg on the floor so that he didn't fall bottom first. He wavered on his feet. "I mean those _ladies_." His not- so-subtle correction went unnoticed by her.

She very well would be lying to say that she viewed them in good light. Sure, she was in no position whatsoever to judge them for what they do for a living, but why would they subject themselves to the lustful desires of men. The obvious reason asides. _Better let them dream on for what they wanted. _To give their virtue in exchange for money only made the fairer sex into a degradable race of breast- toting beings. As it stood, she schooled her features into an expression that disclosed only the slightest bit of distaste.

"Are you sure? I don't think—" He cut her off.

"Help ol' Jack, would ye?" What came to mind was that the sooner he got out of here, the sooner sleep would be hers to have.

She nodded. "If that's what you want me to do."

Boringly, she let her gaze peruse the three women. As always, there were the physical attributes that solely belonged to ladies of such occupation, from the ample show of chest to the wealth of their womanly assets; among others. It wasn't long in coming for them being conscious of her eyes on them. She swore that there was a look of dislike etched on their visage, though it could be directed his way more than hers.

Relishing in the knowledge that they too, did not like to be selected as if they were fruits being sold in the market, she continued to rest her gaze there. Two of the women were brunettes, while the other was blonde. As they gradually swapped the look they had on earlier, a friendly show of nice teeth took over. Probably a fake gesture of that sort from the giver, she returned it with one of the same nature. Minutes more spent with eyes back and forth between the trio, with some measure of uncaring, that her choice was the somewhat tanned and quite short but still pretty brunette.

"Captain," She cleared her throat thrice to get his attention. It did the trick when a wave washed ashore a wee bit of guilt somewhere in her, for his head hit the counter with a thud. Her voice had startled him from the sleepy perch of his head on the length of his arm.

Jerked awake from his almost- sleep, his eyes darted wildly around with much clearer take of his surroundings. Seeing that nothing was amiss, he slowly found the owner to the voice. "What's the matter, love?"

"I was just dome picking up your..." She paused, searching for a word to replace 'wenches' "... companion for the night."

If his ears could prick up like a dog's or wolf's, she guaranteed that he'd do the same. Alas, he was human. "Ye mean them?" He gestured towards them with a tilt of the head.

"Yes, them."

A slow, perverse smile spread across his face. "So, is it Lydia, Katherine or Anne?" He leaned forward, as if eager to hear the dirt about someone else that she happened to be privy to.

"Do you really, truly think that I'm bothered with who's Anne, Katherine or Lydia?" She snorted.

He shrugged, pouring what little rum left in the bottle into his mouth. "How would I know?"

"You should." She pointed out. "As for the women, its the shortest one of them all."

"Not a very wise choice I'd say." Now was his turn to point things out. "I think I love your height best, love." His breath tickled her earlobe. Perhaps it was with the offhanded manner which he said it that made her to feel heat rising to her cheeks. She turned away to hide the color from his view.

"The height difference would be quite the inconvenience, don't ye think?"

"Right." Feeling that the excess blood had withdrawn from her face, she returned to her task of clearing up the counter. His empty bottle was the first one to get cleared. "I'd suppose that the males who seek for such companionship to be well versed in inconveniences as such." She replied, getting a scowl in return.

* * *

Jack took his leave from the company of the barmaid to seek companionship of the the woman of her choosing. Time to get down to satiating the lust he had building in him since he left Tortuga. It wasn't that the other ports didn't have their fine selection of women, rather it was that the women in this port city had more of a softer spot for him. They saw no need to have his cheek taking the brunt of their slap whenever they meet.

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**Thank you to all those who spend their time reading this. Please, leave a review and of course i'd welcome ****constructive criticism as much as I do the reviews =D**


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